


Conclusion

by EroticCodependency (Enakshi)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Accident, Domestic, Hunter Retirement, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 11:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8141770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enakshi/pseuds/EroticCodependency
Summary: A retirement fic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason, for the last few months, even though I feel the urge to write, I am unable to do so. This fic has been sitting half finished for a while now. Its certainly not very great, but I decided to go ahead and post it because... well I got kinda irritated with it just sitting there on my computer. Eh, well.
> 
> May be subject the future editing.

Dean had not been drinking, no sir, not at all, nope nopitty nope.

The party had not even been his type anyway, too much red wine and too little whisky.

But Sam had insisted that he go and he had never till date managed to learn how to say no to his Sammy.

…that and Sam had promised him hot, dirty, fucking later.

 

 

* * *

 

 

But back to the point. He had not been drinking, isn’t even slightly buzzed, so _what the fuck_ do you mean he is in a _fucking car accident_?!?

 

Because, see here’s the thing, he had managed to get away from that god forsaken party at around 2 in the morning. He had slid in to the driver’s seat of the pick-up he had borrowed, and, after a consolatory pat on its dash (its wasn’t baby but Dean always maintained that all cars had souls) to show his regret for leaving it on its own for so long, revved up its engine and backed out of the parking of _Lucifer’s Cage_.

For once in his life he had not even been driving very much above the speed limit. It was late (or early, however you look at it) and he had been cruising along the highway a bit north of 75, thinking all sorts of happy thoughts about Sam’s dick and their upcoming anniversary.

 

It happened at the crossroads.

 

Of fucking course it did.

 

By the time he saw the headlights it was too late. There was no honking, nothing to warn him of the _fucking gigantic_ semi coming right at him.

But Dean had spent his entire life behind the wheel and he wasn’t _Dean fucking Winchester_ for nothing. He spun the wheel and managed to avoid a head on collision with the truck but hit the trunk of a tree on the side of the road instead. The truck sped past his back and took out the butt end of the pick up

 

Dean blacked out.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When he came back to himself, he felt on _top o’ the fuckin’ world_. Felt super amazing in fact, until he saw his leg, which was stuck, as well as his left hand which was completely full of little glass shards which had apparently decided that being a windshield was too boring.

 

Fuck he’s gonna be late.

 

Sam’s going to kill him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The first thing he hears when he comes back to himself is Sam pleading with him to _come back, Dean please, come back to me, big brother, c’mon De, please_. And Dean, eternally unable to refuse or deny his brother anything at all, opens his eyes and manages to focus on Sam’s face.

“Oh thank fuck, your awake. No-no-no don’t u dare close your eyes Dean Winchester or I swear to god there’ll be hell to pay. Just stay awake, focus on me brother, c’mon I called 911, we’re gonna get you to a hospital, no way in hell I’m losing you now, c’mon-“

“Sammy?”

Sam leans in a little closer, probably to hear him better, and his hair tickles Dean’s nose making him give a little sneeze that sounds kind of like a puppy with a cold.

 

“You have beautiful eyes.”

 

And then there’s the sound of sirens and before he knows it he is in the ambulance, his brother holding his hand and the paramedics sticking things into him and generally fussing around him.

 

The Ambulance smells like a unicorn took a shit in it and he tells them so.

 

The paramedics tell him that _he is going to be just fine, no need to worry sir._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He stays awake all the way to the hospital with the nurses muttering platitudes while they fuss with the needles that they stuck in him. It is annoying and irritating and _Jesus fucking Christ on a bloody unicycle shut the fuck up lady._

 

The lady, completely unphased, moves out of his line of vision and he is left in peace with Sam gently rubbing his hand that he’s holding captive in his giant paws.

Dean loves Sam’s paws

 

He drifts in and out, but even when he is out he is more or less aware of what is going on around him.

 

 

They bring him into the hospital which is as drab and boring as always. Dean takes one look at the ‘Decor’ (and the nurses) and decides passing out is a better option.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

When he next wakes up, the sun is high in the sky and shining directly onto his face with a sort of single minded focus through the too-big window.

 

 

Sam is folded into one of those uncomfortable plastic hospital chairs, legs stretched as far as they can go under Dean’s bed, chin to chest, fast asleep.

“S’m?”

His voice is croaky and raw and hardly discernible. But Sam hears it, all the same, and scrambles up, cracking his neck audibly in the process.

“’ey” he says, and it comes out hoarse.

He coughs, and tries again,”Hey”. This time it comes out right and he tries a smile.

This of course makes Dean smile until his chapped lips hurt. Sam notices and retrieving a glass of water from the bed side table, holds it to his lips.

 

Thirst quenched, Dean asks, “the car?”

“Don’t worry it’s okay. Jack will pick it up later. He’s mostly worried about you. Um”

“Um?”

“You, uh, the doctors said that they need to, uh, operate on you…”

Sam trails off, and Dean stares blankly at his face.

“Operate?”

“Yeah. Uh, they called it the, uh, open reduction internal fixation. Its to fix your patella, its fractured. It will, uh, potentially reduce your range of motion and as far as I can tell, you probably won’t be able to hunt anymore…”

“A car.”

“Huh?”

“All this from a car crash.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Dean pitched a fit, of course he did. But in the end even he understood that it was necessary. Dean doesn’t really have a problem moving about, but he has to restrain from strenuous physical activities.

They have taken a small cottage, not far from their bunker. Now they do mostly research work, pass jobs onto other hunters. They have become some type of encyclopedia for the hunters of the next generation.

_Retirement suits Dean,_ Sam thinks as he walks out onto the front porch with two coffee mugs in hand, where Dean, as usual, is sitting on one of the armchairs looking out at the lake, at the rising sun

He hands Dean his coffee and sits down next to him.

 

The sun climbs the rest of its way out of the lake.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_fin]_

 

[Tumblr](http://eroticcodependency.tumblr.com/post/150964884090/conclusion)


End file.
